beginningMIDDLEend
by Lex Munro
Summary: First part of a two-shot. Roy considers the three main stages of his acquaintance with Maes. Warnings: slashy, canon character death and associated spoilers, mild language.


just a little Roy+Hughes to fill my lagging angst quotient. this one is...pretty old. i think i wrote this like a month after the first series ended. sooooo...spoilers ahead.

**warnings:** seinen-ai. angst. canon character death. language: pg-13 (primetime tv plus s***).

**pairing:** Roy/Maes, reference to Gracia/Maes.

**disclaimer:** hagane no renkinjutsushi (fullmetal alchemist) © bones et al.

enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Beginning<strong>

In the beginning, things were a little tentative. They were roommates. They were people who happened to have to share space in the military dorms, as far as one of them was concerned. It took four months of finding Maes' clothes in odd places to banish that impersonal distance between them.

But for that four months, he was woken at all hours (especially on the weekends, because Maes believed in getting drunk and rowdy on the weekends), his books vanished and turned up on the wrong half of the room, strange socks ended up in his bed, his favorite pens showed up with tooth marks…and every time, he launched into a rant about respecting other people's property and having discipline (since they were in the military, after all).

And, for four months, Maes ignored every single tantrum. The brat was just lucky they weren't allowed to use Alchemy outside of training and missions, or…or…

Or something.

He wouldn't really burn the place down, but he was sorely tempted many times in that first hellish trimester. Just a snap of the finger and…FWOOMF! Goodbye Maes, goodbye unhygienic mess, goodbye ugly building.

So he didn't wear his gloves in the room.

Of course, after the hissy-fits died down, there was the exasperated/depressed period of denial and acceptance. There was just no getting around the fact that he was stuck with Maes Hughes, the World's Most Obnoxious Roommate.

And, when he'd finally accepted that fact, and the fact that Maes was determined to be his friend, he even agreed to go out drinking sometimes. Just sometimes.

**Middle**

In the middle of their acquaintance/friendship/relationship (which comprised the bulk of it), they were comfortable.

If they were in the room together, they were almost always on the floor, facing each other, legs stretched out and feet propped together as they did whatever. Maes had long toes, which he wiggled to some tune in his head. It tickled a lot, but he didn't mind.

Maes would ask him questions and he'd answer halfway through them.

Maes would bring him food if he'd been holed up in the room doing research or writing reports.

Maes would laugh and drag him out of the room on Friday nights and try to trick him into drinking.

Slowly, he came to realize that his whole life revolved around Maes.

No, that was silly… His life revolved around researching Alchemy, around doing what his superiors told him to do and never asking questions.

But that didn't change the fact that he didn't feel right if Maes wasn't in the room.

They were _more_ than comfortable.

The moment he realized it, he sat Maes down and talked to him, very seriously.

And Maes nodded and listened (he was half-asleep, and his glasses were on crooked).

"So what's the problem?" Maes yawned.

"What's the problem?" he echoed, standing up and gesturing expansively. "The problem is—is—I can't be in love with you!"

Maes scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Scheduling conflict?" he wondered sleepily.

"It would never work out," he said firmly. "First of all, you want children."

"Ever heard of adoption?"

"And second of all, I don't think it would be good for my career."

"Eh, what Fuhrer don't know won't hurt him any."

"Dammit, Maes, you're _not_ helping! And last but not least, you aren't in love with me!"

"Did you ever ask me?"

He stopped. He gaped. He sat down.

They sat in silence for a while, and Maes prodded him with those flexible toes, tickling. "So?"

"Maes Hughes, are you in love with me?" he asked, in his usual businesslike fashion.

"Yes, Roy Mustang, I do believe I am."

Silence enveloped them a second time.

"Well," he said, after a while. "Well…shit."

"Yeah," Maes said, stretching. "So can I go back to sleep now, or what? It's nine o'clock on a Sunday."

**End**

But in the end, it was cold.

Ever since Gracia, things had been stiff.

It wasn't that he didn't like the woman; she was very nice, and very pretty, and absolutely the perfect woman for Maes.

No, the problem wasn't her, it was him. He wasn't right for Maes, and he hated that. And he wanted to hate Maes, who had pretended that it didn't matter that they were all wrong for each other. And he hated himself for shooting down all of Maes' arguments that they were just fine for each other.

Maes had wanted to keep sleeping together.

He'd flatly refused.

When Elysia was born, Maes stopped pestering him so much. It got really lonely after that, and even if Maes cuddled up to him, it was only to show him a new chapter in the Ongoing Saga of Elysia Hughes.

And he hated himself even more for not being a woman.

That was it, he'd decided. That was where things broke down. If he were a woman, they wouldn't have had any problems. He wouldn't have had any reason to fight Maes every step of the way. They'd have gotten married and lived happily ever after. They'd have children, and it would be _his_ daughter in all the pictures, and Maes would kiss _him_ and talk about how happy he was.

But it was no good wishing for that.

He wasn't a woman.

And Maes was dead.


End file.
